


Warmth of Rage, Cold of Love

by DarkPoisonousLove



Category: Winx Club
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coercion, Extortion, F/M, Friendship, Magic, Magic Stealing, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Revenge, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-06-09 14:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPoisonousLove/pseuds/DarkPoisonousLove
Summary: Valtor spent seventeen years trapped in the ice of Omega only warmed by the thought of revenge and now it's Griffin's turn to feel the bite of the cold as the man she loved barges back into her life with a sinister plan to make her regret leaving him. Canon divergence.





	1. Chapter 1

The threatening shadow of magic crept close, alerting her senses and pulling her out of her sleep. She woke with a start, instinctively searching for the source of the whimpering she could hear in the darkness of the room. The lights quickly turned on with help from her magic and she gasped at the sight of Zarathustra and Ediltrude who were being encased into the walls. Their breaths were shallow since the walls had wrapped tightly around them and restricted the movements of their chests.

“Do you like my gift?” The voice that came from the other side of the room made her jump out of her bed.

“Valtor.” She hadn’t seen him for almost two decades but she’d recognize that voice everywhere. It had promised her everything she’d ever dreamed of and more. She’d been too young and naive back then to realize that those kinds of promises always came with a price. But she’d grown stronger and smarter since then. Smart enough to know that with him you should strike while you still had the chance.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Valtor warned when he saw the purple ball of magic in her hands.

It only made her grind her teeth in anger. “I’m not scared of you,” she challenged and threw the magic at him.

To her surprise, he didn’t dodge or try to shield himself in any way, instead letting the energy hit him square in the chest and send him flying back until he collided with the wall behind him. The groan that came from him was echoed by Ediltrude and Zarathustra too, and when she turned her attention back to them, she saw the walls tightening their grip on them even more. The horror took a hold of her when she heard a crack that could’ve only come from a bone that was put under too much pressure. The walls of her own school were going to crush her two colleagues and good friends.

Valtor laughed, apparently having sensed the dread that had filled her. “You see, when I take damage,” she heard him approach, her instincts screaming at her not to turn her back on him but she couldn't take her eyes off her fellow witches who were struggling to breathe, “so do they.” His breath tickled the exposed skin of her shoulder as he was now directly behind her. “Tell me,” he spoke right in her ear, smug as hell, “how many attacks do you think you’ll need to finish them off?”

She turned around to face him, not intimidated by his close proximity. Her only concern was Ediltrude and Zarathustra. “What do you want?”

The smile on his face widened at her oh-so-readily offered cooperation. “Sit,” his gaze darted to the bed to illustrate the command.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms but did what he asked nonetheless, wary of what he might do to her friends if she disobeyed. She’d already let him hurt too many people.

Valtor leaned down so that he could look her in the eyes. “I want a kiss.”

“What?” Griffin leaned back and had to brace herself against the mattress as the shock of the words washed over her.

Valtor sat down next to her. “When you betrayed me, you left without a goodbye, without anything.” His voice was even but she could see the rage burning in his eyes. She’d never had any doubt that should he get a hold of her, he would make her pay dearly for leaving him. “And so I’ve waited for all these years for us to be reunited.” He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lips, but she stayed still, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of pulling away. Valtor lived for the hunt and she wasn’t going to provide him with entertainment.

“Push that finger any further and you’ll lose it, I promise you,” she spoke as the tip of his thumb parted her lips. She only then realized that he was missing the gloves that he almost always sported as she felt his touch. Bastard.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear, the gesture so familiar despite the long time that had passed, “You like it too much.” He let his hand fall away from her face, his thumb catching on her lip and pulling it down slightly. “You’ve changed the color scheme a bit,” he noted as he now caught a strand of her hair. “It was lighter before,” he wrapped it around his finger once, “and longer. It went on for days,” he looked her in the eyes, probably hoping to elicit some reaction from her as he knew damn well how much care she put in maintaining her hair. “You loved it when I played with it. And when I did this,” he grabbed a fistful of the purple tresses and tugged roughly, forcing her to tilt her head upwards and a moan to fall from her lips, “you went weak in the knees. Which was very convenient since I loved seeing you on your knees.”

“You filthy animal!” Zarathustra growled from her prison, startling Griffin.

“Leave our headmistress alone!” Ediltrude joined her sister despite her obviously troubled breathing.

“Quiet!” Valtor turned to them and let go of Griffin’s hair. With a wave of his hand, they sank further into the walls so that their mouths were covered too which made breathing even more of an issue. “Your headmistress doesn’t seem to mind our little stroll down memory lane.” He left Ediltrude and Zarathustra to watch on in horror without having the ability to interrupt him again as his attention shifted back to Griffin. “But of course you don’t. You were happy. And the Ancestresses were happy that we,” he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, “got along so well.”

“You didn’t seem so unhappy yourself,” Griffin countered, sick of him making it sound like he’d been doing them all a favor.

“I was not,” his hand dropped to her bare knee and the feeling of his skin against hers almost had her jump. “We were the dream team,” he spoke, his fingers moving ever so slightly over her skin, trying to drag her back to a time when his touch had been like oxygen for her. “We could’ve had it all.” The change in his voice must have been unbidden because he immediately tried to cover for it, “until you decided to throw it all away.” His fingers dug in her leg, causing her to lose her train of thought and hiss.

“You could’ve had it all, you mean,” Griffin spoke despite the pain. “You never loved me.” Something blenched inside her, the notion too ridiculous to even be thought of, much less spoken of. “You only loved the power we could yield together,” she continued, trying to ignore her own slip-up.

“And you loved it too,” Valtor barely waited for her to finish. “You can deny it all you want,” his hand slid up her thigh, “but I’ll never forget how your body shuddered under mine, how it glowed, painted in the colors of our combined magic.” His hand on her waist was bringing back the feeling of his touch and his words in her ears were painting a picture in her mind. “It was so powerful that it was a shame we couldn’t fuck on the battlefield.” The vindictiveness of the words had a moan fall from her lips. “The raw energy would’ve turned all of our enemies to ash.” Valtor took a breath, his chest rising and falling erratically, his own speech affecting him too much. “But instead, you joined the Company of Light, betraying not only me, but your very essence. And the memories of that betrayal were what kept me warm with rage all those years in Omega.” His grip on her waist tightened enough to make her hiss in pain before he let go of her as if he was too disgusted to touch her.

“So the kiss is your revenge then?” She glanced at the two witches that were still trapped in the wall out of the corner of her eye. “What will happen to me?”

“You didn’t do me the courtesy of warning me about your betrayal, did you?” Valtor said and she had to admit that he had a point. “But I’m giving you a choice here. I’m not forcing you to do anything.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with coercion though,” she objected.

“The choice is still yours ultimately.”

“And how can I trust you to keep your word?” she asked, this time openly turning to look at Zarathustra and Ediltrude. They seemed just as bad as before but everything in their body language screamed at her not to accept Valtor’s deal. That was not an option though, and they knew it just as well as Valtor did. He’d set the perfect trap for her.

“I’m not the liar here, Griffin,” Valtor said and there was something so dangerous in his voice that she had to look at him to make sure that he wouldn’t get another idea and strangle her instead. He seemed to have something worse in mind though.

From the side came Ediltrude’s muted screams – the walls had started tightening around her again. Next to her Zarathustra was thrashing as much as she could against the restrictions of the walls, desperately trying to help her sister.

“Stop it!” Griffin yelled as she blindly reached for Valtor, her gaze remaining glued to the gruesome scene in front of her.

“That depends on you,” Valtor spoke calmly, as if the pain he’d inflicted had helped him regain his composure.

“Fine.” She turned to him and grabbed his collar, pulling him close and crashing her lips on his. The fear loosened its grip on her as the commotion on her left stopped.

Valtor’s hands came to rest on her waist again and he pulled her into him, his lips keeping hers parted as his tongue slid inside her mouth. It was like a hungry snake that was just waiting to strike and wrapped around hers, refusing to let go even when she could no longer breathe. The world started slipping away and she clutched at his shoulders, holding on, but he seemed determined to take away her breath and her life. Her oxygen ran low and her arms fell at her sides as darkness took over.

* * *

As Griffin’s body went limp in Valtor’s arms, the walls released Ediltrude and Zarathustra and they fell to the floor. Their collision with it seemed to snap Valtor, who was staring at Griffin, out of his thoughts. He laid her down on the bed and got up, preparing to leave. “I believe we’ll be seeing each other again,” he said and disappeared before either of them could regain her bearings.

Zarathustra put a hand on her sister’s shoulder in a silent question and when she received a nod, confirming that Ediltrude was all right, she stood up to check up on Griffin.

“Headmistress,” she shook the unconscious woman. She was still breathing but, other than that, things didn’t look good. She wouldn’t wake up even after they’d exhausted their reserve of healing spells.

Eventually, they teleported to Alfea where Faragonda met them with open arms. The two schools had worked together a couple of times in the past but both witches and fairies still had certain concerns and the alliance between them was still flimsy. They were met with hospitality though and were immediately taken to the infirmary when they told Faragonda what they’d been through. Both had a few cracked bones that were immediately healed and they demanded to be let by Griffin’s side since they were more worried about her. Nurse Ofelia wanted to keep them both on bed for a while but they’d both sneered that they weren’t fragile and didn’t need tending to and Faragonda had led them to see Griffin.

“Will she wake up?” Ediltrude asked as she sat down on Griffin’s bed. The headmistress’ breathing was a little ragged and her skin was a bit cold when Ediltrude took her hand in hers.

“I suppose so,” Faragonda said as she looked at the unconscious witch with worry.

“What do you mean you suppose?” Zarathustra snapped.

“Zara, calm down,” her sister scolded her. “Faragonda is not guilty for this.”

“It’s all right. I understand your worry,” Faragonda reassured. “The spell Valtor is using is going to drain Griffin’s magic and life if it’s not lifted before it’s too late.”

“She can die?” Ediltrude turned to her shocked, her own voice raising despite what she’d said to her sister only seconds ago.

“Yes,” Fargonda admitted gravely. “But I don’t think Valtor will let it come to that.”

“Why not?” Ediltrude asked, glancing at her sister who was now pacing around.

Faragonda hesitated before she spoke. “They have a complicated history.”

That got Zarathustra out of her nervous fit and prompted her to stop pacing. “She loved him, didn’t she?”

Faragonda looked at her, looking shocked by the blunt question, before nodding slowly.

Zarathustra huffed and returned to her pacing while Ediltrude rubbed her temple, the new information not sitting better with her than it did with her sister. Faragonda could see the bitterness on their faces as they realized that they didn’t know their headmistress as well as they thought they did.

“Despite the way she felt, Griffin put the lives of the innocent before her feelings and helped imprison Valtor,” she spoke, not wanting to see them lose faith in Griffin. “That’s why Valtor wants to remove her from the equation. He wants to make sure that she’s powerless to stop him but also that she knows just how helpless she is.”

“So you think he’ll free her from the spell?” Ediltrude asked, still on edge, but the worry was back in her gaze as the anger had been contained.

Faragonda intertwined her fingers behind her back. “Not before her magic is drained. And I suppose he’ll want something in return for freeing her from the spell.”

“What will he want now?” Zarathustra asked as she came to stand next to her sister, her own anger still burning but it was directed at Valtor.

“I can only guess but I’m willing to bet that he’ll want my magic in exchange for her life,” Faragonda said as she looked at Griffin. “That way he’ll eliminate all chances of the Company of Light getting back together and he’ll get his revenge on both Griffin and me. He’s not forgiven her for choosing her friendship with me over her relationship with him,” she circled the bed and sat down on it, opposite of Ediltrude.

“Will you...” Ediltrude trailed off, knowing that the question she was asking didn’t have an easy answer.

“Of course.” Faragonda looked at Griffin again and caught her cold hand in hers. She would only get colder as the life force drained out of her. “Griffin’s my friend,” she managed a small smile. “And the Company of Light will only truly be destroyed when we’re all dead.” But despite the words, there was worry in her voice as she watched the unsteady rising and falling of Griffin’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering writing a second part to this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of people expressed interest in me writing a continuation to this so here it is!

The room they’d given Griffin was so different from the one she had in Cloud Tower. This one was drowned in positive energy and protection charms exactly in the style of Alfea – the school for fairies that was proving to be as annoying as its inhabitants. Speaking of which, the room was packed with both people who did and didn’t belong there.

Griffin’s colleagues–Ediltrude and Zarathustra–whose only impressive ability was turning into monsters, were fretting over her. Which was pointless, really, considering their unwillingness to touch her, her cold skin too shocking a reminder of her helplessness. Valtor could feel the warmth of life draining from her with every passing second as her magic was flowing into him. He’d only shown up when she was sure to be just a few hours short of the cold of a corpse. And her weakness was taking its toll on everyone present.

That included Saladin who was standing near the door as if ready to open it and run away. Valtor barely recognized him thanks to the merciless work of time. Or maybe it was because he’d never been of much interest to him, having nothing that would draw his attention. Griffin and Faragonda had always been more entertaining opponents.

Speaking of which, Faragonda’s eyes were on him the second he appeared. She stood at the foot of the bed, her gaze boring into him. She’d expected him and, from the looks of it, she was prepared to make a deal. The deal he’d come for. Though, from the looks of it, she was also ready to murder him and the only thing that was stopping her was the knowledge that Griffin’s body was getting colder by the second.

The quiet rage in her eyes was almost enough to balance out the simmering hatred in his heart. Griffin was a traitor, someone who couldn’t be trusted, yet, they regarded her as a dear friend that they were ready to sacrifice themselves for. When all she deserved was to suffer for betraying him and dooming him to the isolation of Omega. Still, all of them together could not defeat him and save her from his revenge. That didn’t seem like a good enough reason for them to give up, though, and he would savor every bit of their foolishness and the futility of their efforts.

As if to prove his point, the twin sisters jumped into offense, their dark magic creating a shift in the atmosphere, only making it more pleasant for him as the positive energy was drowned out by their rage.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he folded his arms, unperturbed by their intentions. He didn’t need magic against them. He had the perfect defense. “Right now I’m the only thing standing between Griffin and death,” he reminded. “I’m the only one who can lift the spell. If I die, she’ll follow me.” His words worked their magic and forced the two witches to lower their hands, the magic dying out at their fingertips, but the negative aura of the room was sustained by their crushing defeat. Yet, it wasn’t quite enough for him. “She didn’t do it seventeen years ago, but now she’ll have no choice,” he added one last blow.

The reminder of Griffin’s past with him seemed to overcome them with shame enough to make them look away and their pitiful misery finally loaded the room with enough negativity for his liking. It crashed into them in waves, threatening to carry them away.

“You broke her heart and came back for more, you bastard,” Faragonda–unlike the others–didn’t shy away from the past, instead allowing her clouded judgment to distort it into a weapon against him.

“I was not the one to betray her. It was the other way around,” Valtor snapped, unwilling to let her make him the villain of his own story, to be the perpetrator of his own defeat. He wouldn’t let her put the blame for his own misery on him.

“She loved you but you could never put anyone else before yourself,” she went on, indifferent to the presence of others in her onslaught. She just spewed out her venom–fairies were never good at handling that–hoping to hurt him, uncaring about the feelings of her friends and how her rage was affecting them.

And they looked just as shaken by her words as he was but most probably for very different reasons.

He was taken aback by her words, by her lies, by the sheer disregard of what the past actually looked like. Though, he supposed he couldn’t blame her for getting lost in her own imaginary reality where Griffin was as innocent as she would’ve liked her to be. “Was betraying me putting me before herself?” he asked, a question that would shut her up if she wasn’t so biased.

“She put everyone’s safety before herself,” she argued, professing Griffin to be some sort of brave hero in her little delusion when she was nothing more than a rotten traitor who deserved to have everything taken away from her the way she’d done it to him.

“And how did that work out for her?” he asked, deciding to combat the lies with a strong dose of reality. “How did that work out for all of you?” He took a step forward, uncrossing his arms to drag her out of her fantasy world and remind her of the situation at hand, remind her of their helplessness, remind her of the way things were supposed to be.

His way was blocked by Saladin who slid in front of Faragonda with surprising for his old age agility. Another one that hadn’t gotten the message and was still having illusions that he stood a chance against him. Well, Valtor would gladly shatter those illusions the way he’d shattered Griffin’s perfect little life with a single kiss.

“I suppose you’re here to offer me your powers in exchange for Griffin’s life, too?”

The slight widening of Faragonda’s eyes gave away her panic. It gave away how deep-rooted it was. He could tell it had been eating away at her for a long time. She almost reached for Saladin’s arm to pull him out of harm’s way and prevent him from losing his magic, too, but cut herself short when she noticed Valtor’s studying gaze on her. As if that would keep her intentions and fears safe in her head when they’d been all over the place the moment Saladin had jumped to the rescue.

Saladin’s stance didn’t change, though, and his determination never wavered, the first show of character Valtor could ever remember of him. “I’m here for Griffin. She’s my friend and I’ll do everything in my power to help her.”

Valtor had to ball his hands into fists to keep his magic under control and rein in the desire to blast him. For daring to call her a friend. For daring to care about her. For daring to try to protect her after all the suffering she’d subjected _him_ to. He would punish them all for having the audacity to support her when all he wanted was to see her alone and abandoned by everyone she loved.

“There’s not much for you to do, considering the extent of your power.” He turned to Faragonda, unclenching his fists when he saw the worried frown on her face. “You don’t need to worry about his precious magic,” he soothed mockingly. “I don’t want it. He’s of no interest to me.” What good would a Company of Light with only one member left do? He turned to look at Saladin again. “He couldn’t even take me on when he was young,” Valtor said, staring him right in the eyes. “He won’t be able to do anything now.”

A scowl took over Saladin’s face as his grip on his staff tightened along with his resolve to prove him wrong. The fool was eager to suffer alongside his “friends” so Valtor would give him exactly that.

“You see, Griffin here is completely powerless,” he motioned for her, catching a glimpse of the two witch sisters that were standing at her sides like obedient guard dogs–he’d forgotten all about their unimportant presence, “and I’m going to take Faragonda’s magic, too,” he ignored them, making sure to look at Saladin to get his point across. “And there is nothing you can do to stop me. You failed them both.”

“Don’t listen to him, Saladin,” Faragonda was quick to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder but it was too late. The guilt had already settled in and it would need solid, tangible proof to chase it away. Proof that they’d never get. “He’s the one who set a trap for all of us,” she said as her angry gaze befell Valtor. She’d reached the same conclusion he had.

“And you walked right into it like unsuspecting little sheep.” Though he supposed it made sense. They believed so much in their so called friendship that they never would’ve guessed he would turn it against them.

Faragonda opened her mouth to say something but he was tired of listening to her. He hadn’t come in search of a lecture.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“How do we know he’ll keep his word and free her once he has your powers?” Ediltrude turned to Faragonda, intervening and filling him with the need to blast her. For opening her mouth. For questioning his word. For wanting to protect Griffin.

“Just have the audacity to even think of not keeping the deal,” Zarathustra turned directly to him, her confidence commendable but she lacked the power to back it up.

“Whatever will you do to me?” he asked, his voice hoarse with the desire to just _blast_ someone in the face and his fingers curling under the flow of his magic.

“He’ll keep his word,” Faragonda said as she came between him and Zarathustra, putting an end to his opening for an attack but not on his desire for one. She looked him in the eyes, demanding his attention. “How can he break her heart again and cause her more pain otherwise?”

He forced his face to remain blank and his muscles – still, refusing to fall for the obvious bait.

“Let’s finish this,” Faragonda spoke in a commanding tone as if she had any control over the situation. “I don’t want you in my school any longer than necessary.”

He wouldn’t have her speaking to him like that. Everything they had was his for the taking. They were supposed to cower and beg for his mercy. And he would see to it that they did. “And how will you stop me if I decide to take over your school after I leave you powerless?” She’d just presented him with the perfect way to have the fear gripping her throat and squeezing the air out of her. 

A smile was definitely not what he had expected. “I wouldn’t try that,” she threw his own words at him. “Griselda cast a spell over the school that tracks the signature of my magic. If you use magic–even your own–while in possession of mine, you will get incinerated." 

“So that will leave him powerless?” Zarathustra asked, her mind already racing with ideas, her voice grating on his nerves. Their breathing was grating on his nerves.

“Don’t try your hand,” Faragonda warned. “With so much magic he’ll be out of the realm before you can lift your arms.” It looked like she at least had some common sense left. Even with that ridiculous stunt she was trying to pull. “The spell won’t stop him from leaving but it will stop him from getting any ideas about my school or anyone in it.” She looked at him, her eyes daring him to try.

He had to burn the whole place down to punish her for even having the audacity to burden their deal with conditions. “I could refuse to wake her,” he said to wipe the victorious look from her face. It didn’t belong there. It belonged on his face. Only defeat belonged to them. Not even their lives. Just defeat.

“Could you?” Faragonda asked, never losing her composure even for a second although the witches behind her crouched under the weight of his threat. But she didn’t fall for it.

He advanced upon her, invading her personal space to chase away any sense of security she could be feeling. They were his puppets and he could set them on fire whenever he desired. “And what if I decide to take over your school first and then wake Griffin up? That spell is keeping you from using your magic, too.” She’d do well to remember that. 

“I don’t need it,” she found enough oxygen to speak with ease even with his flames so close. “Everyone’s on high alert. You can’t fight the entire school on your own.”

“And what if they kill me?” She didn’t seem worried for her own safety or that of her school. So he went for a different angle. “You’ll sacrifice Griffin?”

“You’ll sacrifice your revenge?” she asked in turn.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a fairy this good at bargaining,” he admitted. As much as she made him want to set the whole place on fire, he had to give her that. He’d rarely seen _anyone_ that good at bargaining. She’d considered every angle before agreeing to give her powers away.

“I wasn’t always a fairy,” she said seriously, reminding him of the darkness that supposedly lay in her past, too. That would explain why she refused to give up on Griffin even after learning all of her deepest, ugliest secrets.

“I never believed you had an ounce of dark magic in you,” he said just to spite her. “I guess it’s time I found out.”

He raised his hands, lifting her in the air as his magic surrounded her. The lack of resistance on her part allowed him to start draining her powers and he felt them flowing into him. And that quiet rage he’d seen in her eyes before? It was laced into the magic, burning with so much might that it could power some of the strongest dark spells. It was soothing to feel her distress even if the slight pull of the protection spell cast over the school spoiled the fun.

Her magic was soon his since he wasn’t preying on her life force, too, like he was with Griffin, and he had her floating through the room, completely powerless to even direct her own movement. He dropped her on top of Saladin, causing them to fall to the floor, and turned his back on them, focusing on Griffin. She was the one who’d dragged him there. Her suffering lured him in like a siren’s call.

The witch sisters were at her sides and had pushed themselves to hold her hands. In fact, they only clutched harder at them when he came closer, looking like they didn’t intend to move. Not even to help the other two who were groaning in pain like the old, frail people they were.

“You want to let me wake her up?” he asked, their behavior quickly drowning out the heady feeling of having Faragonda powerless as well. 

“I don’t want you anywhere near her,” Zarathustra hissed at him.

“I’d move you out of the way but that would get all four of us killed,” he snapped, his patience wearing thin. And seeing them cling to Griffin so adamantly only tempted him to set them both on fire and have them turned to ash in a matter of seconds so there’d be no one there for her.

The last word seemed to remind them both what was at stake and they let go of Griffin’s hands and stepped away reluctantly. Zarathustra even turned away as he sat down on the edge of the bed and took Griffin’s face in his hands, his gloves keeping away the cold of her skin. Ediltrude watched carefully as if to make sure he wouldn’t trick them and he’d murder her a hundred times in his thoughts if they weren’t full of Griffin.

He leaned in and touched his lips against hers, parting them to breathe air in her failing lungs. He could still feel her breath filling him as he took it away from her with that first kiss. But as pleasant as it had been to feel her struggle for her life, his revenge only began with that second kiss. For she could only suffer if she were alive, if she were awake. Awake like he’d been all these years in the ice. 

She started sucking the oxygen out of him as she woke and he pulled away, unwilling to let her steal anything more form him, leaving her to breathe on her own as best as she could. Her eyes opened and her fists closed in the fabric of his coat as the disorientation set in along with the newly returned life. A whisper of his name fell from her lips as she took in the sight of him.

She looked so beautiful with that confused, yet, adoring expression that had haunted him for over seventeen years. She thought it was a dream. She hadn’t remembered it was a nightmare yet. And he couldn’t stand it. Her nightmare was the only thing that relieved him from his. And the sight of her love burned too horribly even for him.

“Griffy,” Faragonda saved him as she drew Griffin’s attention to herself. She was leaning on Saladin, her skin pale and her legs barely supporting her, but her eyes were full of timid hope. “Are you okay?”

Griffin’s expression changed as the pieces clicked together. “You’re not,” she said, her voice strong and full of rage now, nothing like when she’d said his name.

She turned to look at him. He expected her to push him away. Yet, she only pulled him closer, her fists clutching at him as if she was trying to break him in half. She kissed him and he couldn’t keep up with her, her tongue slipping into his mouth and blocking any air from coming in or any sound from getting out. Her teeth clashed violently against his in the confrontation he hadn’t gotten seventeen years ago. She was trying to tear him apart and he could do nothing to stop her. He couldn’t use magic to protect himself and she wouldn’t let go of him so that he could escape. He could only let her suffocate him with her kiss, hoping that she’d leave him enough oxygen to allow his Dragon Fire to keep burning. 

She pulled away as sharply as she’d captured him in her kiss. “I will kill you,” she said, her voice low and dangerous and never wavering even though she was supposed to be as out of breath as he was, even though she was supposed to be unable to speak. “This kiss is my promise. I’ll kill you, I swear.”

He’d never seen her like that. Burning with so much rage and ready to murder him. He’d never seen her look so stunning. He’d finally done to her what she’d caused to him. “I’ll wait for you,” he promised. How could he refuse to see more of her when she was so vibrant with fury and so consumed by thoughts of vengeance? She was terrifying and exposed to the gazes of all those who loved her. And they were all so vulnerable, unable to protect themselves from the truth about her nature. “It will probably take you a while to get to me without magic,” he said to remind her how helpless she was herself.

It got her to loosen her grip on him and he was out of her hands and out of her sight but stuck in her heart as the thorn that would make her bleed to death, all of her boiling blood spilling for him.


End file.
